Happy Birthday Mr President
by Just Dyana
Summary: There isn't much Veronica can do for her boyfriend' birthday — she doesn't have a ton of money available, and it's not exactly her scene to organize a surprise party — but she can, at least, make sure that he's not alone.


_Takes place during season three, more or less canon compliant._

* * *

Veronica didn't really have a _plan_ when she went to visit Logan at the Neptune Grand. Which was probably a normal thing, actually. You're not supposed to always have everything prepared, you're not supposed to have a precise outline of everything bad that can happen to you, you're not supposed to look for places where you can see without being seen when you walk into a room, and you're definitely not supposed to check the windows for angles at which you could be seen by, say, a private detective.

Which was why, if she had thought about it, or even noticed her own behavior, Veronica would have guessed immediately that she wasn't normal. Not that she would have _cared_, but she would have realized it, at least.

What she did realize, though, was that there was something really… relaxing about being with Logan. She didn't connect it to all the things she didn't have to worry about when she was with him, but she could still appreciate it. He was her island of peace in a chaotic life, her happiness, a place where she knew she could let everything go.

If you had told her just two years ago that she would _ever_ define Logan Echolls as her "island of peace", she would have laughed — and then, for good measure, she would probably have found something very petty to do to you. Not mean, because that wouldn't deserve _mean_, but she would definitely have figured something out.

That being said, the second she saw Jeff Rather walking towards her boyfriend's room, the gears started turning in her head again.

It wasn't an elaborate plan, in fact she could come up with seven of these before breakfast, but she wouldn't say no to the cerebral activity.

"Heyyy, Jeff!" she greeted him with an unnatural cheer that had him recoiling. "Is that for Logan?"

He looked down at the trolley he was pushing, then sighed deeply.

"It is."

"Great! So would you mind letting me deliver it?"

He sized her up for a moment. In fact, he would mind, because he hated the idea of doing anything that would please her. As far as he was concerned, Veronica Mars was a demon, and he just needed to prove it. Her fake smile fell while he was staring at her.

"…Or do you really want me to make your life _miserable_ that hard?"

It took him a few more seconds to weigh his options, before deciding that no, it wasn't worth angering her just so she would be annoyed he hadn't let her deliver her boyfriend's food.

In fact, one could even say it was rather ridiculous it had taken him that long to make his decision.

"Fine, Mars," he replied, rolling his eyes and extending his hand.

When she blinked at him, he rose an eyebrow, and Veronica shook her head, looking in her purse. That rat. If she hadn't known exactly the feeling of not getting tipped for your work, she would have left him standing there. But apparently, she couldn't see herself doing that now.

Damn, maybe Weevil was right. She _was_ getting soft.

The exchange made, she pushed the trolley for the last few meters, and swiped the card Logan had given her to open the room, then slipped it into her back pocket. She actually had it on her at most times, and though she tended to think it was sentimental and somewhat ridiculous, she couldn't help the comfort it gave her. It just made her happy in the simplest of ways, and no matter how sentimental that was, it wasn't something she could deny herself.

"Room-service!" she called out.

Logan's head jerked up and he stared at her, mouth gaping, for a few moments from the couch.

"Veronica?"

"Surprise!"

Then there it was. That bright smile that reached his eyes, the one she only saw when she caught him off-guard. It happened more and more often, probably because he was lowering his guard around her more than around anyone else, but it was a sight she didn't think she would ever get tired of.

In a few long strides, he was towering over her, the smile not completely gone yet, and he was leaning towards her, something she had had to get used to since dating someone who just had to be _that_ tall.

"I wasn't expecting you tonight," he said with maybe just a hint of shyness. He didn't necessarily say it out loud, but he loved it when she used the card he'd given her.

"You're not too familiar with the concept of a surprise, are you?" Veronica teased, wrapping her arms around his neck and tiptoeing to peck his mouth lightly.

He snorted at that, but soon followed her mouth to kiss her again, properly this time, and for one second, Veronica just let herself go. She let herself feel his hand delicately cradling her face, let herself enjoy the feeling of his mouth, soft against hers, let herself appreciate the warmth of his body. Let herself enjoy _him_.

Then she stepped back, eyeing the trolley with curiosity.

"So. What are we eating?"

He let his hands fall. He should have known — it couldn't possibly be that easy to have Veronica's undivided attention, _of course_ he would need to put some more effort into it.

"Want to order some more?" he offered while she revealed french fries and a steak.

She grinned, grabbing a few fries. "No thanks. What's a boyfriend for if I can't even steal his food?"

He chuckled lightly at her antics. He was _so_ whipped.

Then ordered more fries.

By the time he was done, she was sitting on the couch, eyes on the TV. Looked like he would either need some good persuasion or just to wait a little longer before he could have her _all for himself_. But she looked taken in by the movie, and, well, an evening by her side, in any way, was still infinitely better than any other evening plans that didn't involve her, so he decided he could settle for that, and he took his place by her side.

* * *

A couple of hours later, his arm had slipped from around her shoulders to her waist, and she was half-laying on top of him. They both enjoyed everything they could get that way. The proximity, the comfort of being together, that never got old.

Still, the third time Logan noticed Veronica glancing down at her watch (it was actually the sixth), he couldn't help but ask "Gotta go soon?"

She looked up at him, arching her back against him to achieve that angle.

"Are you trying to throw me out without even giving me some 'but baby it's cold outside'?" she protested, grinning. "No. My dad isn't going to worry or anything." As for why, she wanted him to have plausible deniability, so she couldn't expand on that.

"So what then?" he questioned her. "Am I boring you? Because I promise I can make this a lot more entertaining…"

She laughed, and in only a few seconds, she was sitting in his lap, her fingers running softly on the nape of his neck and in his hair.

"Well…" Another look at her watch, and this time, she smiled widely. _Finally_. She leaned in until her lips were brushing against his without quite touching. "Happy birthday," she whispered before kissing him softly.

Instinctively, his hands closed around her waist and he pulled her closer, his brain much slower to process her words than his body.

"You remembered," he mumbled, emotion obvious in his voice.

She shook her head with amusement, but there was no mockery in her voice when she replied "Of course I remembered."

Birthdays had never been Logan's favorites. As a child, his mother would always organize the most outrageous parties, but those were never really about him — it was about money, about power, and about her, and even then he had been able to understand that to a degree. Later, she had stopped doing that, and he had spent his birthdays as almost normal days. There had been the time when he was with Lilly, of course. They'd been broken up on his birthday though, so they hadn't done anything, but she had given him an expensive watch when they had gotten back together, so at least she had thought of him, right?

Still, it had been quite some time since someone had actually wished him a happy birthday, on the right date and all.

"So does that make you my gift?" he teased, his hands already slipping under her shirt, ready and willing to _unwrap_.

"I mean I _can_ be, I know I'm a constant pleasure after all," she grinned, "but it's not exactly what I had in mind."

Oh, _and_ she had gotten him a present. He knew there was a reason he liked her that much.

Not that she had to. He would have been happy with having her there, he would have been happy with her being here and forgetting his birthday, he would have been happy with a text, he would have been happy with nothing at all as long as she was in his life.

But since she was there, he crossed his fingers behind his head in a false display of calmness while he watched her pull out a crumpled package from her pocket and hand it to him. For one second, he stood still, and then, with a childish enthusiasm that he knew would make her laugh, he tore the package to pull out a small chain.

"So, my first idea was to give you a key," she started rambling, feeling unusually nervous as he let it run through his fingers, "but my dad would _kill_ _you_ if he saw you in the house and didn't know you were there, and I happen to like having you around, so I couldn't do that. Then I…"

"Veronica," he interrupted her. "It's great."

It wasn't anything too fancy really, just a silver chain with a triangular pendant, which he guessed was meant to represent Mars Investigations' logo, but it was perfect.

He would probably have thought anything coming from her was perfect, but he truly appreciated this. It would always remind him of her, but it was discreet enough that he could see himself wearing it without giving him too much thought.

Though he would have worn something if it had "Belongs to Veronica Mars" engraved in it as well.

"You like it?" she asked softly.

"Put it on?" he simply replied.

She smiled as she took the necklace from him then reached behind his head to attach it. Once it was done, she kissed his cheek softly. She wanted to tell him she knew it wasn't much, that she knew he was probably used to better, that if he didn't like it, he should tell her, but he looked so genuinely _happy_ that there was nothing she could find in herself to say.

There was a moment of silence while she looked into his eyes, where she saw herself and only herself reflected. It felt like she could see so much of him just then, so much gratitude, and perhaps most importantly, how much he cared for her. Her breath caught in her throat.

Next thing she knew, he'd pushed her on the couch, and he was laying on top of her, pulling on her shirt.

"I have a second present to open, right?" he said with a serious tone.

Veronica laughed then pretended to sigh, her attitude immediately refuted by her legs locking around his waist.

"Do your worst."

"Oh, I intend to."

With a grin, he kissed her, hastily trying to undress her while she attempted to take off his shirt in the same movement. They were both a little breathless, both almost in desperate _need_ of the other.

_Happy birthday to me_, Logan thought to himself once he had managed to throw her shirt on the side, allowing himself to enjoy the view for a second, before leaning towards her yet again, thoroughly decided to _enjoy_ his present.

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed the story and that Logan and Veronica weren't too OOC. It's my first time writing for the fandom, so I would love if you could give me some feedback about it!_


End file.
